Him
by Snicker Puff
Summary: Collins stares at a door. Can't say much more without giving it away. Written for challenge 42 at rentchallenge on LJ. Chapter two: Angel's thoughts.
1. Chapter 1

Collins stood at the door, just staring. He didn't move away, didn't knock; just stared at it. His eyes followed the cracks that crisscrossed their way down the cheap wood, absently looking for familiar designs. He didn't know how long he stood there, could have been only a minute, could have been an hour, but still he continued to stare. To stare and try to figure out what to do.

Collins had always been shy and awkward. Even as a child, he'd had trouble making friends. And boyfriends? Forget it. He could barely even get close to a man he was attracted to, let alone ask him out. Mark and Roger liked to tease him about it, and it was their voices ringing in his head that kept him there, glued in place in front of a worn, cracked door.

"_Collins, if you ever found Mr. Right, you'd probably just turn and walk away from him."_

It was exactly what he had done. Collins had found him. Found that one person that he _knew_ was the one for him, and he had walked away. It was _his_ door he now stood in front of, trying to gather the courage to knock, and _his_ face that floated across his vision.

He was the most amazing man Collins had ever met. How many people would venture into a dark alleyway to help a big, black man? And how many people would then take that man home to tend to his wounds?

Collins had been captivated by him the moment he set eyes on him. It wasn't just his physical beauty, for he _was_ beautiful; there was no other word to describe him, but it was the way he carried himself, the way he spoke. He was so gentle and caring, and yet so strong and independent. Collins had willingly followed him home, trying to suppress the desire that had spread through his body like wildfire.

They had talked a little. Angel so confident and charming, Collins stumbling over his words as he tried not to stare too long at the amazing creature before him. He'd wanted to say more, wanted to find out more about Angel, but the smaller man's feather-light touches had sent Collins' mind into a whirl and he hadn't been able to find the words. He had become distracted by the hand that rested casually on his knee as Angel dabbed at the cut on his lip, and before he knew it he was patched up and Angel was standing before him, smiling down at him as he sat on the couch.

That smile had ingrained itself in Collins' mind, and he longed to see it again. Not only to see the smile, but to see _him_; to see Angel.

But was it too late? Feeling suddenly awkward under Angel's gaze, Collins had abruptly stood up, thanking him for his help, and left. The instant the door had closed behind him, his friend's voices had begun taunting him. He knew they were right.

Angel was the one. Collins had no doubt about that at all. But what if Angel didn't feel the same? He tried to push that thought out of his mind. He couldn't allow himself to back out based on what ifs. Not this time. Not with _him_.

Taking a deep breath, Collins knocked on the door.


	2. Brown

Angel stared at the door through which Tom Collins had just fled. He had no idea what he had done to make him leave so abruptly. He was used to getting that reaction from others when he was in drag, but tonight, he was dressed in normal 'boy clothes'. And they seemed to have been getting along so well…

Angel hadn't been afraid when he'd approached the man in the alleyway. The only thing he'd felt was concern, and a desire to make him feel better. He'd walked confidently up to him, questioning him about what had happened, and then he'd introduced himself.

That first time Collins had looked at him, Angel had become captivated by his eyes. They were the most beautiful shade of brown Angel had ever seen. He'd never thought of brown as a pretty colour before, but those eyes – they were so expressive, so open. Long after Collins had told him his name, Angel had continued to gaze into his eyes, completely taken by them.

Shaking himself out of the pleasant trance he had fallen into, Angel had brought Collins home. His shyness as Angel cleaned and bandaged him had endeared Collins to him, and each time he looked at him with those luminous brown eyes, Angel felt his heart flutter. He hadn't known it was possible to fall for someone like this, but he knew he was falling hard.

And then Collins had left.

Angel was surprised by the intensity of the disappointment, of the hurt that he felt. He'd only spent maybe a half hour with this man. And yet… There was just something about Collins. He was different. Angel could tell that, could see it in those eyes. He had been sure Collins felt the same about him, but now he was gone. He'd left Angel alone, just like so many before him. But unlike most of those others, Collins' absence nearly crushed him.

Angel was about to begin cleaning up the mess of cloths and bandages on his couch when he heard a light rapping at the door. Sighing softly, he moved to answer it, expecting to see Mimi. Expecting her to be high. When she was sober, she'd just bound into the room, without knocking at all. She only ever seemed to knock like that when she was high.

Opening the door, a gentle reprimand was lost on his lips as he found himself looking into deep brown eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes that could only belong to one man.

"Collins?" he asked, almost unwilling to believe he was actually there.

Collins said nothing, simply stepped closer to Angel, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him sweetly on the lips. Angel's eyes fluttered shut, the sensation of Collins' warm mouth on his better than he could have imagined.

As they parted, Angel's eyes slowly opened and he looked deeply into Collins', a small smile gracing his lips. In Collins' eyes, he saw everything he'd hoped for, everything he'd wanted. Those striking brown eyes reflected the same emotions, the same passion, the same love that was in his own, and Angel knew then that this was right.


End file.
